


Stay

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 05:40:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6458062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And it’s easier not to see some other guy look at Shuu in the way that makes it feel as if there are invisible fingers inside of him, pinching his veins and his guts and twisting his muscles—and he really doesn’t want to see Shuu looking back at someone else like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

“Shuuzou has a date tonight.”

Shuu’s sister crosses her arms, as if Tatsuya’s supposed to do something about it right then and there. Even if he could, he’s in the middle of helping Shuu’s brother with his math homework, and even if he wasn’t he wouldn’t interfere, regardless of how much he wants to (or how much Shuu’s sister wants him to).

“Are you going to help him get ready?” says Tatsuya.

“No,” she says, rolling her eyes in that quick and practiced way kids all suddenly seem to learn when they reach a certain age.

But she’s not going to come out and say it, and until then Tatsuya’s safely in the realm of ambiguity and three-digit multiplication. She flounces off, and Tatsuya suppresses a sigh.

“I’m almost done,” says Shuu’s brother.

“No rush,” says Tatsuya. “Remember to double-check your answers.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Shuu isn’t even home yet; today he usually has the late shift at the auto shop but Tatsuya supposes he probably found some way to get out early if he’s got a date. He tries not to think about the other guy, how attractive and smart and well-adjusted he probably is, how he’ll probably charm Shuu’s socks off. Of course, that only results in thinking about the first few dates he’d had with Shuu back in high school, the way Shuu had taken his hand and the way Shuu had looked at him and the way they’d chatted in low voices and it had felt as if he’d known Shuu forever instead of just a few months. But this is not the time for that; he’d surrendered any claim he’d had to Shuu a long time ago and Shuu deserves someone well-adjusted, someone ten times the man Tatsuya is, someone who won’t hurt him and push him away.

“There.”

He thrusts the paper into Tatsuya’s hand; Tatsuya begins to read over the problems. They’d gone through the first half step-by-step, and he’d let Shuu’s brother attempt to tackle the other ones himself—and they’re mostly right. He’s dutifully shown his work, every carried digit and every reproduced double-check. One problem is wrong, but that’s just a simple multiplication error. He points to it with his finger.

“What’s nine times twelve?”

“Seventy—wait. A hundred and eight. Oh.”

He erases his work and redoes it, correcting his mistake.

“Good job,” says Tatsuya.

He’s rewarded with a smile as Shuu’s brother stuffs the paper into his bag, which disappears just as soon as they hear the click of a key in the lock. It’s too early for his mom, which means it must be Shuu.

It is; he stops in the dining room to ruffle his brother’s hair and marvel at how he’d gotten through his math homework correctly already. When that’s done, his brother runs off to play, leaving Tatsuya and Shuu alone.

“Big date tonight, huh?”

“Oh, uh—yeah.”

“Your sister told me.”

Shuu rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why she’s so against me dating.”

Tatsuya shrugs. “She doesn’t want another rival for your affections. It’s understandable.”

“Well, yeah, but she liked—”

He pauses, flushing and scratching his neck, as if suddenly aware of how close they’re standing.

“Go get ready,” Tatsuya says.

“Right.”

Long after his footsteps on the stairs fade away, Tatsuya thinks about that last word. Shuu’s sister had liked him, still doesn’t attempt to hide how much she’d love it if they got back together. And Tatsuya wishes, very much, that it could be that simple, that easy.

* * *

The kitchen is hot but at least the heat drives everyone else away and cooking dinner gives Tatsuya an excuse to not spend too much time seeing Shuu off. Part of him doesn’t want to meet this date, because it’s easier to just hold him up as some imaginary boogeyman in his mind. And it’s easier not to see some other guy look at Shuu in the way that makes it feel as if there are invisible fingers inside of him, pinching his veins and his guts and twisting his muscles—and he really doesn’t want to see Shuu looking back at someone else like that. Part of him knows it’s ridiculous, that he’s clearly not getting over Shuu like this and maybe seeing Shuu with someone else would help, that maybe the pain would stab at him until it becomes a dull ache and then nothing, that maybe if he sees Shuu moving on he’ll move on, too. But part of him, a bigger part if he’s being honest with himself, doesn’t want to move on.

He’s about to go crack the back door when someone else does it; the cool air is wonderfully refreshing against his sweaty back. He turns to thank whoever’s come in, but his breath catches in his throat when he sees Shuu smiling at him like that. It’s almost like the way he used to smile at Tatsuya when they were sixteen and had just started dating, when Shuu would reach out for his hands and just hold them, the pressure of his fingers familiar and cool and just the right weight and—no, he’s not going to think about that right now.

“Didn’t I tell you to get out of the kitchen?” Tatsuya manages.

“About that,” says Shuu, shifting his weight. “My date flaked out on me.”

“That’s no reason to waste a nice outfit,” says Tatsuya. “But I’m sorry.”

Shuu shrugs. “I wasn’t too thrilled about this guy, anyway.”

Tatsuya tries very hard not to feel some sort of satisfaction at that, but it only succeeds to a low degree. It’s hard to not be satisfied when he’s standing here drinking Shuu in like some thirsty animal at an oasis, the way the sunlight comes in through the screen door and hits off his hair and the soft smile still on his face and his slouch, the way his hands are stuffed into his pockets.

“Anyway,” says Shuu. “I don’t know, if you want help or—company…”

He could so easily say he doesn’t, and that would be the right thing to say. But he does want company; he does want Shuu’s company; he does want to be alone with him in the kitchen for the next fifteen or so minutes until dinner is finished and even more than that if he’s being honest with himself.

“Don’t ruin your outfit. But you could get out plates or something.”

Shuu smiles in relief, and—something else, and Tatsuya’s not going to start imagining this he wants to see right now. Not those kinds of things. He gives Tatsuya’s shoulders a squeeze as he passes; Tatsuya hopes to whatever higher power might exist that Shuu doesn’t feel the quickening of his heart rate.

“Thanks, you know. For all this. Helping my brother, making dinner, you know. And I know you said it’s because you want to, but still—especially because of that.”

Tatsuya’s stomach flips and twists inside of him; he pretends to be very busy moving the vegetables in the pan. Shuu is unfair; this is unfair. How—why—is he still so nice about everything? After all Tatsuya had done, all he’d said? After all the shitty, purposefully-hurtful ways Tatsuya had tried to cut him loose?

“Anytime,” Tatsuya says, not trusting his voice much above a whisper.

* * *

He’s got studying to do but he can’t keep the image of Shuu out of his head, Shuu sitting across from him at the table, eyes bright in the fluorescent light and face animated as he spoke, or the way Shuu had insisted on doing the dishes and banished him to the living room or the way Shuu had carried his half-asleep little brother up the stairs in his arms, telling him affectionately that he was kind of getting too big for this. The paper lies in front of him, untranslated and unread; Tatsuya rubs his eyes.

“Hey,” says Shuu. “It’s getting late.”

He’s close enough for Tatsuya to smell the traces of his cologne, mixed with soap and soy sauce but still pleasantly fruity.

“You’re right; I should go,” says Tatsuya.

“No, that’s not what I meant—I mean,” says Shuu.

He’s blushing. Tatsuya pauses, hand hovering over the table to pick up the paper. Shuu shifts onto his right foot, half-uncomfortably.

“I mean, you shouldn’t be driving this late. Not when you’re that tired.”

Despite himself, Tatsuya yawns. He’s just drowsy enough to think about what would happen if he moved his hand a few inches to the left, if he grabbed Shuu’s, if he pulled Shuu down on top of him. He almost tells himself to stop out loud before this goes too far, before he actually reaches.

“Hey,” says Shuu again, sitting down next to him on the couch.

Tatsuya finds his body curling just a little bit toward Shuu’s body heat (traitor).

“Is everything okay?”

He’s so close now; he’s barely whispering but the sound of his voice is echoing through Tatsuya’s ears and his scent is overpowering and he can see Shuu’s throat move when he swallows, the part of his lips and their shadow on his chin. And he wants, wants, wants, so much. He looks into Shuu’s eyes and at this point Shuu probably knows, but—well. He tells himself to pull away, to not overstep boundaries even more no matter how good it feels, to pull away and gather his things and go, and then Shuu’s lips are on his, soft and sweet, and he lets go.

Shuu’s become a much better kisser—not that he was bad before, a little inexperienced but always eager, but this is different, leaves all of Tatsuya’s emmories and the fantasies he tries not to have behind, as if it’s breaking the sound barrier. This makes Tatsuya want to press back with his own mouth, makes him want to reach out for Shuu—and as he does he realizes that Shuu has already reached out for him, has caught him in his arms, that they’re pressed chest-to-chest.

Tatsuya feels as if he might cry. And he almost does when the break apart, bites back a sob as his whole body shudders. Shuu pulls him closer, onto his lap; he rubs circles on Tatsuya’s back with the flat of his hand and Tatsuya tries to regulate his breathing, match it with the rise and fall of Shuu’s chest.

“Is this okay?” Shuu says.

He ought to tell Shuu it’s not. He’s not supposed to want this in the first place, and Shuu deserves so much better than him, than this.

“Do you want this?” Shuu says, low from the back of his throat.

There’s no point in lying. “Yes.”

“Then stay,” Shuu whispers, nuzzling his neck.

He wants to tell Shuu it’s not that simple, but Shuu knows that already, all too well. And he wants to stay, regardless of the complications, regardless of the guilt pushing up from under him. So he pushes away the part of him that says he’s already stayed too long, in Shuu’s arms and on his couch and in his house and with him, and raises his head to meet Shuu’s gaze again.

Shuu’s eyes are steady, soft.

“Yes.”

Shuu’s smile lights up the room.

**Author's Note:**

> nijihimu 4/4


End file.
